


Treat me Right

by msarahv



Series: Treat me Right Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Dean, CEO Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Starbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msarahv/pseuds/msarahv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Castiel the 3rd, CEO of Milton Industry, heir to the Milton fortune, most eligible bachelor of all of New York according to Business Magazine, glared at his Starbucks coffee cup. He turned to his second cousin Balthazar, Viscount Rochinson, a man who was full of blue blood, of himself, and was an assbutt in Castiel's informed opinion:<br/>“Did you get the wrong order too?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1984winstonandjulia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1984winstonandjulia/gifts).



> PROMPT #52 for the DESTIEL FOREVER fic prompt  
> Dean & Cas - one is a barista and it's the others first Starbucks.

Castiel the 3rd, CEO of Milton Industry, heir to the Milton fortune, most eligible bachelor of all of New York according to Business Magazine, glared at his Starbucks coffee cup. He turned to his second cousin Balthazar, Viscount Rochinson, a man who was full of blue blood, of himself, and was an assbutt in Castiel's informed opinion:

“Did you get the wrong order too?”

God, he sounded stressed, even to his own ears. He should go on vacations, but his father had gone off the radar for the past months and there was no way he was letting the family corporation crash to the ground.

Balthazar, who hadn't worked a day in his life, took a sip and smiled smugly:

“No, perfect as usual. That's why I always come here, in fact. Only this staff is capable of delivering actual coffee and not watered-down American disgusting beverage, that I won't even qualify as coffee.” He nodded, then his smile turned sly: “Plus, most of the barista girls here are easy...”

“You are a disgusting being yourself, that I won't qualify as human. I shouldn't have listened to you.” Castiel didn't like the idea of coffee shops. He had a great expensive Espresso machine back home and when he needed coffee at work, well, he had assistants.

He tried drinking the vanilla extravaganza again, in order to keep his brain cells to shut down for ever, but it was just not possible. He got up with a grunt, followed by Balthy, who kept on chatting mindlessly:

“Just because you can't appreciate the feminine beauty yourself, Castiel, doesn't mean we should all become monks. What would women do if they were stuck with goody-two-shoes like you?”

“Be treated like decent human beings? Yes, I know, the horror… Seriously, Balthy, if I ever find out you had an illegitimate child and you didn't care about it, I'm selling you to the tabloids.”

Castiel didn't even have to sound threatening, his cousin's face blanched. Only for a second, though, then he was back to his usual moronic state:

“Anyway, I was about to say, some of the male barista are exceedingly attractive too. I don't even bend that way and I can see it.”

They had reached the counter and Castiel was trying to remember how the barista who had served him looked like. Was it a man or a woman? He really should go back to bed. The seats in this shop were quite comfy and tempting.

He snapped himself out of his tired trance and answered, without thinking much:

“I wouldn't be interested in someone who makes coffee for a living and you know it. I need decent conversation, not just a pretty face.”

“Sir?” Talking about pretty face, here was one. In fact, it was gorgeous, lightly freckled and lit up by a pair of soft green eyes. He looked a little grumpy but still breathtaking. His name tag said 'Dean'.

Castiel gulped, tasted vanilla in his throat again and remembered what he had to complaint about:

“Excuse-me, but I think I was given the wrong order. I asked for a milk espresso, not for vanilla, and this cup is filled with it.”

“Can I see your receipt?” The man was frowning now, looking at the piece of paper in furious concentration, then back at Castiel, up and down, as if he was seizing him. He licked his lip in a delicious way, then grinned and stated firmly: “Nope, no mistake here. This says vanilla.”

“Then, the person made the mistake when taking the order. Can you fix that?”

Castiel was getting more and more irked. He had to be in the office soon, to perform his duty, instead of giving in to the temptation of asking this man his number. He was aware he was contradicting himself, but frankly, who could resist such a sight?

Unfortunately, the sight was stubborn:

“No can do, man. Guess you'll have to order and pay again and this time say the right words. Think you can do that?” Dean's left eyebrow was raised defiantly. Castiel wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, he realized, he was toying with his tie so much so that it was now loose and upside down. He must look really scary… He coughed, wanting to be done with this altogether:

“All right, here it is...”

 

* * *

 

 

They finally exited the coffee-shop, in rapid strides, Castiel gesturing for a taxi with the hand that wasn't holding the new hot paper cup, while Balthazar threw out his nonchalantly:

“You know you could have that barista fired with one phone-call Cassie?”

“I'm aware, yes. But it isn't worth it. I'm just never going to a Starbucks ever again.”

“Your wrath is in full force, I see. How can you be such a terrifying business man at work and a puppy in real life?”

Castiel didn't dignify that with a response and opened the taxi door. Balthazar, never one to pass up on a free drive, sat next to him. He waited until Castiel had burned his lips on the coffee to add:

“If you want I can get you that guy's number.”

“Which guy?”

“The barista? The one you were drooling over. I understand, by the way, even I was tempted for a second.”

Castiel sighed:

“I have never asked a stranger on a date. How would I know they agree because of my money?”

“Oh, right, and your mommy dearest would be so distressed if you were to marry _common…_ Although if I were to somehow persuade you to date a woman, of any origin, I think she'd be elated. Then she would have grandchildren… Maybe she would reward me, settle my debts...”

Castiel payed and left Balthazar to his daydream. He would visit his mother soon, he decided. She might be desperate for him to settle and produce an heir (He hated the term, after all, why wouldn't he and Anna both inherit? She might have ran away when she was young but now she was working as hard as he was), but she was still a loving parent, and a present one too.

He pinched his lips, resolute not to let his thoughts go _there…_ His father was well-known, if he had died, they would have heard about it. No, he was alive, somewhere, having abandoned his family. Castiel wanted to hate him, but he wasn't one to feel so strongly. Balthazar was right, he was a goody-two-shoes who couldn't even fight about the wrong coffee. He let himself wallow for another minute, then changed his posture, put on his business face and walked to his meeting. The company was thriving under his influence and he was proud of it. Three hours later, he had struck a deal and made two grown men almost cry.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next week, he woke up too late and mixed up his clothes so much, he had to go back home and change, as well as comb his hair. The stress created followed him all morning and by noon, he needed a break, a real one. He considered going to a park but those around his office were full of screaming toddlers. There were always museums, but somehow his feet had decided they knew where to go. He bought a hot-dog from a street vendor, feeling edgy and adventurous, then caught a cab and gave an address.

The Starbucks was mercifully not overcrowded. There were three barista, a smiling red-head girl on the left, a shy-looking dark-haired woman in the middle and Dean on the right. Castiel was tempted to go order from one of the female staff, they looked quite nice but he had to face it, the reason he was back here was glaring at him.

He walked to the back of the queue but as he got nearer Dean, he heard a female voice say:

“I'll take your order, sir!”

Resigned, he walked to the middle of the counter. In a way, it was a relief, Dean had acted like a jerk the other time and Castiel could still gaze at him from there. This was all what it was about, after all, aesthetic appreciation. He was starting to read the menu to find the right wording when he was interrupted. Dean had put his hand on the woman's shoulder:

“It's okay, Lisa, I got it. Can you go in the back find some cinnamon packets please?”

She smiled gently at him and excused herself. Castiel was gaping now, unable to proceed with his order. There was no mistaking the hostility in Dean's posture. Had he decided to bully Cas out of the shop? Just because of a mistake on the staff's behalf? Castiel wanted to feel angry and righteous, but his knees were on the verge of collapse and his brain was fixated on the freckles on Dean's face.

But Dean was inflexible:

“Could you not waste my time, there's a queue behind you?”

“I...”

“Or do you want me to recite the whole selection and you can raise your hand when it's the right one...” There were a few laughs. Castiel had been foolish to think he could stray out of his routine. He wanted to sass back, but he, who could hold his own against the rulers of the world, who had managed to tease a freaking _sultan_ once, was out of his depths. Dean was very direct and borderline crude but he was also disarmingly charming, even when he was sarcastic.

 

Castiel closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. He was a feared businessman. He could do this. He got inspired and fished in his pocket to take out one of his business cards, then grabbed the marker laying next to Dean's hand, feeling their hands brush. He didn't let himself get too distracted.

He wrote in cursive, like he had as a child, as clearly as possible and signed his full name. He handed the card silently, raising his eyebrows and was pleased to see that Dean was fighting a smile.

 

One minute later, he was seated comfortably, drinking the correct drink and decided he actually liked the place. It was a pity it was so far from his home or work. On the other hand, his stress level had calmed down significantly. He would come back.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was shy when outside of his circle of friends, but he could be stubborn. He was going to change Dean's opinion of him, even if he had to spend more in taxi fare than on the coffee itself

It took a few weeks to get Dean to smile at him without reserve. Cas had made a coffee-related pun that he had rehearsed in the taxi and even managed to say it casually in front of a long queue and a gorgeous-looking barista. As he was about to pay, Dean put his hand on his wallet and said:

“On the house. Thanks for the laugh, I needed it.”

Cas walked on air the whole week after that. Balthazar came to dinner and asked him if he got laid. Castiel refused to answer with a smug smile. He regretted it when his cousin started telling Castiel's mother about his suspicions. Fortunately, he had ammunitions and Balthy knew it from a single glance. The conversation was swiftly diverted to fashion and gossip, so Castiel could get bored in peace.

 

* * *

 

Slowly, there was a change in the way Dean was dealing with him, so Castiel started to open up a little more, talking about the weather, or something funny he had witnessed on his way to the shop. He never needed to say his order now, Dean never made a mistake and made jokes about his lame taste

He always made sure he was the one serving Cas, who was disciplining himself into not reading anything in it. Sometimes their eyes met and stayed stuck for a while, at least until someone coughed or addressed Dean. 


	3. Chapter 3

One day, he came in and Dean wasn't there. There was just one barista, the red-head, whose name-tag read Charlie. He had talked to her a few times already and knew she was peppy but sweet, so he went for a chitchat:

“Looks like you're on your own, today. It's a good thing there are few customers.”

Charlie chuckled and typed his order expertly on the flat screen:

“It's okay, Dean is busy fixing the espresso machine in the back.”

“Oh, I guess I'll have to wait then!”

“Yep, stuck talking to me.”

“It is but a pleasure.” This time, Charlie laughed so much her head rolled backward.

“I like the way you talk. Dean say you sound like a walking dictionary, but I think you are more like a gentleman from the last century.”

“Well I grew up in the 20eth one, so it's technically true.”

There was a lull in the conversation and he looked around to find a new subject:

“I haven't seen Lisa since the last time I came. Is she on vacation?”

“Oh, no, she's found a new job. Yoga instructor in a gym.”

“Oh, good for her! It's so great to do something you like.”

Charlie nodded then gave him a shrewd look:

“Is that your case?”

“No, not really... But sometimes life asks you to be responsible.”

“True, that's why I'm here. I worked for a big company but my parents passed away and... well I just went through dark times. I've found myself in New-York in the end and now, I just work as the shop's unofficial IT now and then.”

“You're good with computer?”

“One of the best. I've been head honchette of a design team and I can do things with a computer that you couldn't dream of... But I would need good references to be hired and I can't get that anymore.”

She looked quite melancholic, now. Castiel, who was a creature of shyness, was panicking internally, but tried to be positive:

“I do hope your work here is not too stressful. I've heard some costumers can be quite rude.”

“Tell me about it! Luckily, there are people like you, who make our day...”

Castiel did a little bow, which she rewarded by a big grin and a pat on the shoulder. Then Charlie turned and Castiel realized Dean was standing next to her, his arms crossed on his chest, his head tilted on the side and narrowed eyes.

“Oh, hello Dean.”

“Castiel.”

“So, I was waiting for your machine to be fixed. Charlie was so nice as to entertain me. She's delightful.”

Dean was smirking now:

“Sorry, Romeo, but she's playing for the other team.”

Castiel held his head high. He might be shy, but he was proud of who he was and if Dean didn't like it, he could burn in Hell for all Cas cared:

“Then we are kindred spirits.” Charlie beamed and held her hand up, her fingers pressed two by two. He looked at it frowning, both at the gesture and at Dean's audible sigh.

“I'm afraid I don't get that reference.”

Charlie laughed again and went on the side to make his coffee. Dean took her place and said in such a soft tone that Castiel had to bend over the counter:

“You know, the card you gave me with your order, it was lost.”

“Yes?”

“Would you... I would need a new one, if that's possible.”

Castiel was not over-reacting. He wasn't. He was calm and composed and waited until after he left the shop to sit on a trashcan and breathe out. He went back to his office and called his assistant:

“I have a favor to ask you.”

“Sure, boss, whatever you want.”

“If someone from Starbucks calls or if there's a “Dean” on the line, don't filter it and let me talk to him. It's of extreme importance.”

“All right.”

“And if I am in a meeting, ask for a number and be very positive about the fact that I will call back.” Castiel used his boss stern eyes for this one but it was for a good cause. There was no reason for Dean to call him, but if he did, it would be a pity if he got discouraged, wouldn't it?

 

* * *

 

In the afternoon, Castiel was talking with his second in command, Michael, about their latest recruit, Lucius. Apparently the man was doing a fine job. He was charismatic and intelligent, yet, there was something Castiel couldn't put his finger on, something disconcerting and unsubstantial. He couldn't find anything concrete and Michael didn't seem to feel the same way, so they just decided to let him continue his trial month and postpone their decision about keeping him. Michael shook Cas' hand and left the room just as the phone started ringing. It was Dean.

Castiel drank half a bottle of water before answering and danced around his office to manage the tension in his muscles

“Hello, Dean.”

“Oh, hey, Cas! So, I know we just saw each other, but...”

“Yes?”

Dean sounded nervous, which was new and exciting, but didn't help Castiel's mental state.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite somewhere tonight. Like a diner or something.”

“Oh...” Diner's didn't belong in his life's experience either. He either went to high-end restaurant or have his chef prepare a meal. The one he had at the moment was French and quite creative.

But Castiel had gone through the Star buck experience relatively unscathed, he could take another risk:

“I would love to. Where shall we meet?”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean out of uniform was an experience, one that involved all of Castiel's reacting body. He breathed through his nose, remembering techniques he had learned at one of the company's trainings, dusting an invisible speck on his three piece suit. He was becoming more and more aware exactly how over-dressed he was. The diner had a vintage atmosphere that put him in mind of the folly of youth, having fun with your friends like he knew he never really had.

  


They sat at a formica table, something Castiel had only heard about, and were given worn-out menus. Castiel squinted to decipher the characters and heard a laugh:

“Come on, Castiel, you take so much time to order, I'll have finished eating and you'll still be reading that stuff.”

“Pardon me, I seem to have forgotten my glasses at home.”

Dean looked up with a frown:

“You wear glasses?”

“No”, Castiel was quite proud his quiet deadpan humor was finally back. He turned the menu around but was still stuck: “But when I look at that thing, I'm invaded by doubt and I consider booking a medical appointment.”

Dean shook his head but he was smiling:

“Why don't you order what you like? What's your favorite burger?”

Castiel didn't need to answer that one. Apparently it was written on his face. Dean made an outrage noise:

“You've never had a _burger_?”

“No, those were considered... inappropriate by my mother.”

“Not even as a student? Did you buy a mansion with a chef while you went there?”

Cas was nervous again. But a date with Dean was precious, he had to get over himself:

“I didn't really attend college. I was... sickly.”

“Sickly...” Dean's eyebrow had reached the top of his head. And he still looked attractive. Castiel sometimes wondered if the man had struck a deal with the devil.

“My health was unequal. So my parents arranged for me to take courses by correspondence. I had tutors too.”

“Man, you were born with a silver spork in the pie-hole. I never went to college but that's because I couldn't afford even a few minutes of it.”

“They don't make silver sporks, Dean, I'm pretty sure of that.”

Dean had a big goofy smile. Cas chuckled. The evening was going well, by his standards, which were very low and consisted of Dean not hating his guts.

A red-headed waitress came to ask for their order, and Castiel felt brave:

“A bacon cheeseburger please.”

Dean grinned.

“I'll have the same. And anything bubbly you have to drink with that, too. I'm celebrating.”

The waitress noted it down on actual paper, which put Charlie in his mind.

“Penny for your thought?”

Castiel looked back at Dean:

“I was reflecting on Charlie's prospect.”

“Charlie, who works with me?”

“Yes, she told me her real calling was computers but she wasn't hire-able anymore.”

“Oh, that...” Dean was looking at his paper napkin as if it was a riveting thing “Yes she had a shitty hand, and it messed with her head. She was lucky the company she stole from didn't press charges or she'd be in jail now.”

“And then you hired her.”

“Nope, wasn't manager back then. But I told my boss she'd be okay. She's cleaned her act now. You know how they say that if someone fucked up big time, sometimes you can trust them never to do the same mistakes again?”

“A debatable view, but I get your meaning. So you would vouch for her?”

Dean looked up: “Yes.”

“Good. I was thinking that I could give a few phone-calls and get her job interviews. I can offer her a position in my company but maybe she would wish another one of her choosing. What do you think?”

Dean's eyes were almost round with awe:

“You can do that?”

“Yes. I've dined with the majority of the major New-York CEOs. I don't get along with all of them, but if I tell them someone is good in his field, they'll listen.”

“Wow, Castiel, that's awesome. I think I'll go broke and order even more bubbles.”

Cas smiled. He could buy the whole dinner and give all the waiters raises if he wanted too, but he had to let Dean pay. It was surreal and endearing.

“So what are you celebrating?”

“Oh, you know, just being promoted... I'm the manager now!”

“Congratulation! It is excellent news!”

Dean patted Castiel's hand. Castiel was getting dizzier by the second. No alcohol was required. Then Dean blushed and whispered something that made Castiel's blood pressure rocket:

“Cas... I have a confession to make.”


	5. Chapter 5

This was it. Castiel was hanging on his breath, already wondering when he would get to kiss Dean. How would he taste? How soft would his lips be? What would be his mother's reaction to meeting him?

 

He was so focused on his daydream, he almost missed Dean's first words:

“It's about that first time you came to the shop.”

“Yes, Dean?”

“The mix-up about your order, well, I lied.”

“Oh?” The conversation was going in an odd direction, but Castiel was still hopeful. Dean looked nervous when he was always so confident, so it was a good sign.

“You see, it was Lisa who took your order...”

“Really? I didn't remember at all.”

“Yeah, well, I was counting on that, actually...”

“What do you mean?”

“Lisa,... we had a thing way back. It didn't work and we lost touch.”

Castiel didn't like what he was hearing and felt passably stupid. What purpose did this conversation have? He started twisting his hand under the table.

Dean went on:

“Anyway, we met again when she started working at the Starbucks. She's got a kid, now, Ben. He's great and she seems to deal with being a single mom well. But a few month ago, he got sick. It was a hard blow for her. She spent all her free time at the hospital with him and she looked for cleaning jobs to get the money for the medical bills. At first she didn't tell anyone, but she started making mistakes at work. Customers started complaining. The manager called her and gave her an ultimatum. I found her crying in the back of the shop. She said she couldn't lose that job but she was so exhausted. So I helped as much as I could. I covered some shifts, I brought her groceries if she didn't have the time...”

Castiel nodded. The more he knew Dean, the more he realized how much he had misjudged him at first. He was selfless and protective and loyal.

Dean grinned for a second as he went on: “... Ben got better, which is awesome, but Lisa was still tired and that's when you came in. She messed up your order. I thought: if that guy asks for the manager, she's fired. So, I was an asshole on purpose, to distract you and then I tried to make you think it was your fault. I apologize for that. I know you a little better and I think...” He blinked and gestured to Cas in an awkward gesture “...I think you're the good kind.”

Castiel didn't reply at once. It was a lot to take in. In a way, all the efforts he had made into making Dean like him better had paid off. But what Dean seemed to be looking for was forgiveness, and for an unimportant slight at that. All the romantic fantasy had been in Castiel's head only. He sighed and decided to be the better man that Dean now saw in him:

“Thank you, Dean. Coming from you, that is a great compliment. For your information, by the way, I wouldn't have made a fuss. I was half asleep that day, and in the company of an idiot. I just wanted coffee that wouldn't make me want to throw up. It was one of my bad day as well as one of Lisa's. We're all human and I'm aware of that.”

Dean gave him a sad little smile: “I shouldn't have expected you to be a jerk. The thing is, I recognized your face, from the papers. You're rich and powerful. You could have any of us fired I'm sure. I thought, better me than Lisa.”

 

The waitress finally came, with two glasses of a nondescript beverage and the two burgers. Dean looked relieved now and raised his glass:

“Some good came out of it all. First, because I always checked what was going on and made sure things went smoothly, I was noticed and when the manager quit last week, I was promoted. And second, I've made a new friend!”

 

'Friend', Castiel felt unbalanced. He admired Dean's spirit and humanity, so it made him feel important and valued. But he was also very much aware of how much he wanted more. He toasted back, with a forced smile and started eating. He was diverted from his emotions by the taste and let a moan escape. The burger was a revelation. Dean was chuckling, munching happily, with his mouth so full his cheeks were bulging. Cas let go. He would be sad for a while, he knew it, but he would soldier on. After all, it only had been a crush.

 

They talked some more, during the meal, easily and naturally. Dean was fascinating, with his love for rock and pie, with his stories of having lived on the roads of America, when he met all kind of people and learned never to judge. He was self-read, diving in a passionate debate over Vonnegut. And he listened to Castiel. And he looked sincerely interested.

It was dawning on Cas that many of his relatives and acquaintances were more boring than Dean or Charlie. He was about to say so when Dean looked at his watch and exclaimed:

“Shit! It's later than I thought. I promised Lisa I'd be at her place at 9.”

He took his wallet and threw some dollars on the table, then patted Castiel's shoulder as he stood up: “See you later, man! At the shop on Tuesday, as usual?” and winked before leaving Cas on his own.

 

He got up slowly, more frustrated and disappointed than he wished himself to be and wondered if he would, in fact, make the lengthy trip to the coffee-shop the next time.


	6. Chapter 6

The next week, there was a crisis at work. It was stressful, even more than usual, but it had one good point: it put Dean out of Castiel's mind. Not entirely, of course, because Dean's beautiful features and rough voice kept popping up in his memory and each time it hurt. Castiel was angry with himself for falling so fast for a literal stranger. It was the price he was paying for wishing for romance in his life.

  


So, he dealt with overworked IT technicians and engineers, hired some experts, and realized how underdeveloped his computer team was, even though a working network was essential for the company to function. In the meantime, he let Michael manage the meetings and other daily decision-making, aided by Lucius as it would be a good way to show him the ropes. Castiel had agreed with reluctance.

  


In the end, they fixed the problem, but Cas was still resolute to go talk to Charlie. He gave a few phone-calls and was, indeed, told that she was bad news:

“I understand. So you're saying she did sub-par work?”

“No... she was exceptional. The reason we had to part with her was more along the line of... trust. She was so gifted that she took advantage, you see.”

“Oh, of course, thanks for warning me. Have a good day.”

Castiel hung up and turned his seat to the window. He had a wonderful view, from atop the building, so high he barely saw the city itself, just its outlines. It was very calming and helped him think. He was going to follow his emotions. Charlie was funny and nice but he didn't know her. She could stole from him, expose secrets, create all kinds of problems. But Dean had vouched for her and something in Castiel had decided Dean could be trusted. Yet his little deception about the coffee order mix was proof he could lie for the people he loved (although, of course, he wasn't dating Charlie,... he was dating Lisa. It still hurt to think about). After an hour, he didn't feel he had made any progress, so he decided he should go talk to her.

 

* * *

 

So here he was, at the back of the line, on a Tuesday, looking at the counter to spot Charlie. And if, in passing, he noticed that Dean was there too, well, that wasn't on purpose. In between them was a blonde girl with big excited eyes.

When Dean saw him, he smiled at him and raised a hand in greeting. Cas nodded back then tilted his head towards the red-head. Dean frowned but didn't intervene. Castiel wondered if Dean was going to let anyone serve him, now that he didn't fear for Lisa's job. He was manager after all, now.

 

Charlie was happy to see him too:

“Hi Cas!”

Castiel raised his hand and mimicked the gesture she had made the week before (he had asked his assistant to research it. As it turned out, the man was a Trekkie). Charlie chuckled and gestured back. Castiel started:

“I'm very happy to see you, Charlie, you look very good, today.”

“If that's your way of getting a free coffee, it won't work on me, you know? I'm not Dean.”

Castiel heard a cough on his right. He refused to turn his head and started his spiel:

“So, Charlie, I don't want to infer on your work time, but I'm looking for an IT expert. My company almost burned to the ground due to a technical problem, so I realized I need the best and I've been told you're it.”

“Dean told you that?”

“He did but I also passed phone-calls...”

“Oh.”

“You had already told me about your difficult moments, remember? I'm not here out of pity, not at all, I assure you. This is me asking you to come assist me. Would you be interested?”

Charlie looked unsettled. Castiel waited patiently. She turned for a moment, to get his coffee cup, and asked:

“Can you give me a little time to think it over?”

“Of course, I'll give you my card.”

This time, Castiel peeked at Dean. He looked tranquil but was breathing a little heavily. Maybe he was tired.


	7. Chapter 7

Mission accomplished. Castiel was allowing himself a moment of relaxation, sipping his coffee contently, when he heard a commotion. A female voice was shouting:

“Leave me alone, you freak!”

He looked in the direction of the sound. The new barista girl, Becky, was fighting a man off. He had grabbed her arm and wouldn't let go. His other hand was on her bottom. Every customer was watching with horror, not knowing how to act. Castiel saw Dean running over:

“Sir, leave my employee alone, or I'll make you!”

Castiel only heard part of the answer. Something about “in front of all those customers?”

Dean looked furious but composed and replied:

“Why don't I call the police on your ass, then? I've got a shop full on witnesses. This is assault and you know it.” The threat was partially effective. Becky was set free and run, crying to the counter. Charlie took her in her arm, whispering things.

Castiel got up and walked a little further. The man had stood up too and was yelling, his fist in the air, shouting:

“You wouldn't dare! I can get you fired with one phone-call! And this stuck-up bitch too! Do you know who I am?” He was yelling now and moved a little, so that his face was visible.

Cas' eyes widened. He placed himself just beside the man's table and said forcibly:

“I do.”

 

* * *

 

Lucius turned around, his face contorted with fury, then froze when he recognized his CEO. Castiel was furious too. He should have trusted his instinct. Lucius was an arrogant pig. It was a good thing he was still on trial, it would make it even easier to fire him.

He looked at the terrified expression. It had all happened too fast for his recruit to fake a smile. He tried pleading though:

“Sir, I'm sorry you had to witness that. It seems this man here is overly aggressive. I was just talking to that waitress and here he comes running...”

“Save your breath, Lucius, I saw and heard enough.”

“Oh, come on! I'm an asset to your company and you know it. I suggest you think before sending me away, you'll regret it.”

Castiel smiled slowly. He hated the attitude but it was good being in a position of power just for that:

“I'm positive I won't. And I don't think you should try to work for another big company in this city. I know most CEOs by first name and they trust my opinions, as well as care for the well-being of their female staff.”

Castiel then walked to the counter to Becky who had stopped crying and was watching in amazement. He took another card out:

“If you wish to press charges, I'll be happy to support your claim. If not, be assured that he will lose his position in my firm. I do not take sexual harassment lightly.”

“Oh, my god, you're my hero...”

Even Charlie looked impressed. Castiel was feeling embarrassed and a little proud of himself. But when he looked in Dean's direction, he was disappointed. Dean was breathing heavily, looking oddly angry. He didn't thank Castiel or talk to the girls, but rather walked to the back door and slammed it. There was an awkward pause, then Becky went wild:

“I so want to invite you to dinner, you know, to thank you.”

“That won't be necessary, I assure you.”

“You sure? You're so dreamy, I could look at you all night. We could get to know each other...”

Charlie laughed out loud and murmured in Becky's ear. She deflated and merely shook his hand. Castiel obliged, in a distracted way. What had angered Dean so much? Did he wish to be the one taking care of the situation and felt threatened in his masculinity? If that was the case, Castiel didn't want anything to do with him.

 

* * *

 

It took a while to convince Michael. The man considered Lucius his protégé and first called slander. Castiel had to explain in detail that he had seen everything first hand. He was relieved the man would leave, he had an inkling Lucius was wanting in many more areas and didn't intend to find out at their expense. In the end, Michael relented:

“I trust your judgment, Castiel. The company is thriving since you've taken charge. We'll have to hire someone new, though.”

“True. Can I request that we do the interviews together? Our expertises combined would help us filter the applicants better.”

“Absolutely. I remember a young woman named Hannah... It was a tie between her and Lucius...”

Michael's eyes were shining. Castiel smirked and left him at his reverie.

 

He was busy, all the time, now, micro-managing whatever he could because it helped him not to think about Dean. His assistant had to kick him out at night so that he would get some sleep. What bothered him the most was the why. What had he done to anger Dean like that? It was eating him up, so much so that the next Tuesday, he was back.


	8. Chapter 8

He hadn't intended to be pushy, or agitated but the moment he caught sight of Dean, something snapped. He couldn't force Dean to love him but at least he could ask to be treated with more kindness.

He saw the man disappear in the back once again, so he marched to the counter and called Becky:

“Hello Becky, can I talk to your manager?”

“Oh, hello, Castiel! Is everything all right?”

“Thank you for your concern. I believe I've asked you something.” Becky blinked. Charlie passed by them, frowning. He didn't want to explain. His problem was with Dean only.

 

* * *

 

Dean was seated at his desk, his head in his hand. He looked up, raised his eyebrow and for a second, looked more bewildered than angry. Castiel gathered some courage and put his hands on the desk, bent over Dean, who shrunk away until his back was against the chair.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas, what the hell?”

“I have a question for you and I don't intend to leave without an answer.”

“Is this coffee-related? Otherwise I owe you nothing.”

Castiel felt he had been punched in the gut:

“Really? All this talk about being friend was a dream then?”

“”No, of course not!”

“Then, I demand to know what I have done to deserve your ire.”

“My what?”

“You're angry at me, Dean. And I don't know why. I need a reason.”

Dean got up so fast that the chair fell over. His lip was pursed and his eyes were trembling.

“I'm not mad, Cas, I'm frustrated.

“What about?”

“Not telling. We may be friends but I don't talk about my feelings ever. I'm not a chick.” He was crossing his arms, now, like an overgrown toddler.

Castiel sighed. Dean was such a fragile soul beneath that tough exterior:

“Maybe you should learn from women, then...” He sat on the chair beneath him, all his righteous fury behind. He just felt tired and sad. But he had to go on: “I think we have to communicate better. I'll start. I was very disappointed about the other day, when I defended Becky. I put myself on the line, here, Dean. I can be very shy at times and it took a lot from me. But I did it, all for you.”

“Cas...” Dean extended a hand. Cas was focused on it, ready to tell Dean about his secret feelings when he saw him stop and close his fists.

“Dean...”

“Goddamn it, Cas! Will you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Being so damn perfect all the time. I'm trying to deal with something and you're making it so hard. I know you would never...” He closed his eyes and whispered :“Never mind.”

“I do mind! Finish your thought!”

“You're not the boss of me Cas! Just because you're a rich cultured guy doesn't mean you're better than us.”

“I've never said such a thing!”

“Really! So you've never told your British snotty friend that you would never date a barista!”

“N...”

Castiel froze. He had said that. He remembered it now, clear as day, just before he had met Dean. He felt horrible but also, strangely, hopeful. Why would Dean care if he was snobbish, unless...

“And I'm sorry for being such a stupid, destitute son of a bitch. I'm sorry for caring for you and wanting more. I...”

Castiel didn't let him finish. He had ran to him and was now kissing him so hard, he couldn't breathe properly. It wasn't a problem. What mattered was that Dean's lips were soft and pliant and that he could feel his arms shyly wrap around his chest. Dean had won his heart.

 

* * *

 

When they finally stopped kissing, but were still panting, Cas put his forehead against Dean and said:

“I apologize, Dean, I've been an ass. I made a statement based on my prejudices at the time and they were deeply unfounded. Although, I was also reacting to my cousin Balthazar who is a nuisance and pushes my button. I do hope that you will forgive me.”

Dean had his eyes closed and a wide grin on his face. He grabbed Cas' bottom and expertly made them fall on the chair that was still up, Castiel landing on his lap.

“Stop talking Cas and kiss me again.”


	9. Time Stamp #1 : First Date part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, interestingly, I've been inspired to write for this verse again. I hope you guys will like it. I'm posting it both here and as a new work in the Verse so those who subscribed can get the notification, then I guess I'll switch to the new work. Happy Holidays you all!

Castiel Novak, overstressed big boss of his father's company, horribly rich since birth, still a bachelor but not single anymore, had a problem.

He was about to go on his first date with Dean Winchester, manager at Starbucks, proudly working-class, and, if his kissing was something to go by, very eager to be with him.

Still, Cas was nervous. What if something went wrong? What if he proved himself too snobbish, or too superficial, or even _worse_... boring?

What if Dean changed his mind? Their story so far had been unconventional and filled with hesitations and misunderstandings. And while what he really wanted was to take Dean to his bedroom and not leave for two days, he was aware of decorum.

First, dating and see if they had something that could last. Then, wayyyyyyyy later, introduce him to his family (his mother last if possible, she was nice enough but not exactly... egalitarian in her views) and finally, hopefully, live together.

He had a very clear image of the latter in his mind, filled with simple moments and maybe pets, but in order to get there, he had to go through the rest and he was, frankly, overthinking it.

  
  


So to change his mind, he did what always helped: he went to Starbucks. He had someone to see there anyway.

  
  


Becky greeted him with enamored eyes and Cas ignored it as diplomatically as he could. Dean sent him an air kiss in between two customers. Castiel lined up in front of Charlie's counter and waited.

“Hey, here comes the Knight of this Realm. So, did you fire Becky's aggressor?”

“Yes, some time ago now. I'm glad I did. It's always good to hire exactly the right person for the right job. Which leads me to my next inquiry...”

Charlie laughed:

“Always so charming! But I'm not gonna make it easy. I want a real interview.”

“Of course, I wouldn't have it another way. You're a professional. I'm not offering you the job out of pity.”

Charlie was mellowed enough to finally answer:

“Then send me a date and I'll be there. I hope you guys have a decent operating system. It it's Windows 8, I'm leaving.”

“I don't think that's the case, and I can assure you that, were the system inadequate, you'll be at liberty to reinstall the best you will suggest.”

Charlie sighed:

“How come Dean managed to resist you for so long? _I_ 'm gay and I can still feel the charm.”

Castiel, who knew the depth of his timidity, didn't disclose that this was the reason he had developed said charm. And the remark about Dean didn't help matter.

“Hey, what's going on? Something wrong at work?”

“Oh, no, not more than usual, but you see...” He dropped his voice and painfully shared : “I'm not very sure where to take Dean for our first date. I'm afraid I am unqualified.”

Charlie looked at him seriously, then patted his arm:

“Don't worry, young padawan, I will show you the way.”

  
  


Charlie brought his order and they talked a while. After he finished his coffee, Cas was about to leave when he was stopped at the door by a suspicious Dean.

“What were you talking about with Charlie?”

“Her future position at my company.”

“And... ?”

“Well something confusing about “padawon” and “jedi masters”, I think?”

This had Castiel led back to his table and sat down to be lectured:

“That you wouldn't know Star Trek, I can accept, but come on, Cas, _Star Wars_?”

“I have heard of the movie.”

“Movie- _ **s**_! Frankly Cas, this is embarrassing. You're even dorkier than my brother.”

Hearing about a sibling was a new development Castiel was trying to digest, at the same time as pondering Dean's statement.

“So, you're not interested anymore?”

The look Dean gave him was a hundred years old:

“Dorky and an idiot, I see. I thought all rich-ass guys were full of themselves but you're really really not.”

“Having money can indeed inflate someone's sense of importance. I am guilty of it, I assure you. But this is all very new and I have invested a lot of feelings in this.” He gestured between the two of them and was rewarded with a smile. He forgot what he was saying and just stared stupidly.

“So have I...” and just hearing Dean say that was overwhelming. Castiel hoped it would stay that way. It was good to feel so alive.

“And for our first date, I am supposed to go to the movie theater with you. I was told you loved it and...”

“By who?”

  
  


Castiel was getting better at reading Dean and confessed quickly:

“Charlie...”

“Right.” Dean's tone was strong but he looked relieved. Castiel made a note not to hide things from him.

“Okay Cas, new rule. When something's bothering you, you come to me. What is this “supposed to” about? What do _you_ want to do for this date?”

“I don't know...” He gave Dean an apologetic look “I don't know you well enough. What if I pick something that will bore you?”

Dean sighed and shook his head:

“Even if it was, I would still spend time with you. We're in New York, it's easy to find something else to do.”

Cas nodded. But Dean wasn't finished:

“I'll give you a few pointers, though. I love pies. And food in general. So any place that sells those, I'm fine with. Unless it's the kind where they give you ridiculous portions that cost an arm and a leg.”

“Oh, yes, it is a strong dislike of mine. I have to order twice sometimes to get a decent meal.”

“And I like movies, obviously, although I prefer watching a DVD back home with my friends. Relaxing on the couch, eating popcorn and mocking the film if we want, you know?”

“Well, I don't own a TV set...”

Dean munched on his bottom lip, then said:

“I do. How about, for that date, we meet at my place and we watch Star Wars? My apartment is tiny, but if you don't mind...”

“I don't. But only if the couch is as comfy as you suggest.”

Dean looked at him frowning and must have noticed the smirk.

“It is and it's tiny too. We'll have to squeeze...”

The tone was so suggestive, Cas stood up and put his suitcase in front of his pants.

“Let's do that, Dean. I have to go now...”

Dean looked down and smiled smugly:

“Yep, I have to get back to work too. See you tomorrow night? I'll text you my address.”

“Perfect.”

  
  


After a quick kiss, Castiel was on the sidewalk, looking for a taxi and thinking very hard about his great aunt Naomi until he was composed enough to push his suitcase away.

He and Dean had arranged their first date. Success.

 


	10. Time Stamp #1 : First Date part 2

On Friday afternoon, Castiel did something he had never done until now. He left work early. In the morning, he had searched through his closet and come to the conclusion that whatever he owned was not right for 'DVD watching'. He had already made the mistake of over-dressing once and now knew how Dean looked liked when he went out (absolutely delicious of course, but also, quite relaxed).

  
  


Thus, Castiel entered the most luxurious shops and found himself with pristine new blue-jeans as well as a few plain T-shirts. He remembered the last time he had worn one of those as a rebellious teenager. His mother almost had a heart attack.

  
  


Then, he stopped at the florist and got a delicate flower arrangement, with as much green foliage as possible to go with Dean's eyes. In his few past relationships, flowers had always been expected, so this was an easier part.

  
  


He stood in the building's hallway, still a little nervous, but mostly excited at the idea of seeing Dean outside his place of work. He knocked lightly and composed himself.

  
  


Dean was frowning. He was looking at Castiel up and down, then at the bouquet in his hand and what he saw didn't seem to his taste. Castiel waited, disappointed and, if he may say, a tad shaky, wondering what he had done wrong.

Dean met his eyes and took a step forward, to hug him. Cas almost let the flowers fall in surprise, but he was so relieved he let out a big sigh.

He followed Dean inside and looked around with interest. The place was ridiculously small. And yet, Dean had managed to put everything he needed in it, for practicality if not for aesthetics. There was, indeed, a worn-out couch in front of an enormous flat screen, which made him smile and wink at Dean.

  
  


He suddenly remembered his offering and handed it to his boyfriend, who took it clumsily and mumbled:

“Thank you, Cas, but... I don't think I own a vase.”

“Really? Where do you put the flowers from your dates, then?”

“They're... not the kind to give flowers, actually. The guys were not very romantic and the girls were the ones... who got the flowers... Plus this thing is freaking enormous!”

Nothing was going like it should be. Castiel had expected Dean to make a comment on how good he looked in jeans, and then be happy about the flowers. He had reached the end of his script, at loss for ways to salvage the date. He started pacing the room, reaching the end too quickly because of how small it was.

  
  


Dean closed his eyes, then strode to the kitchen resolutely. He took out a large salad bowl and placed it on the counter, then he arranged the flowers inside it, until it looked quite fine. He took a step back and smirked in Cas' direction:

“Hey, looks like this thing is finally getting used. It's a housewarming present from Sam but I don't eat rabbit stuff. Wait a sec.”

He took a photo with his cell and typed something.

“Are you teasing your brother?”

“Yep... Plus, showing him that I am worthy of nice gifts, instead of the boring stuff he always gets me.”

He looked up at Cas and his smile shined all over Cas' world, until all the negative emotions were washed away, adding: “I would take a photo of you too, to show him how good you look dressed like that, but I don't think you would approve.”

  
  


Castiel shook his head and sat on the couch. Dean immediately jumped over it and landed partly on Cas' laps, who reached his arms in reflex, finding himself nose to nose, with Dean.

“Hey, Cas.

“Hello, Dean.”

He decided to throw away every expectations and scripts he was following and just kissed him full on the mouth. Dean readjusted himself while keeping the kissing going. It lasted for a long time.

  
  


As the evening progressed, he became quite engrossed in the movie he was watching (and in Harrison Ford, who was a treat for the eyes), limiting his physical connection with Dean to knees touching and hands fondling in the pop corn bowl (something else he had been deprived of until now. Being rich meant missing out quite a lot.)

But when it was over, he turned to Dean and started stuttering and mumbling, trying to convey how much he had liked it, until Dean ran his hand through Cas' hair and whispered:

“I knew I'd make a fanboy out of you. It's turning me on to see you enjoying yourself like that.”

  
  


It was such a strange feeling, to have his shy nature being validated. When he was in company of people of his circle, he had developed a public persona that made him seem charming and witty. But Dean broke through all of these walls, letting Castiel be himself and actually appreciating what he saw.

This was a turn-on for Castiel too.

  
  


The kissing resumed with a heavier note, Dean's body pressed against his chest, his fingers unfastening the new pants:

“Really? You even wear brand underwear?”

“It's very comfortable.”

“Feels like it. Although, wouldn't it be even more comfortable without them?”

The way Dean was wriggling his eyebrows made Castiel laugh out loud. It changed the mood a little, enabling him to suggest moving to the bedroom:

“Not that I don't like your couch, Dean, but it is not very practical for the kind of wrestling we are currently engaged in.”

Dean chuckled, getting up and pulling Cas toward him:

“Funny you would say that, I was a wrestling champion in high school.”

  
  


Castiel wanted to hear more about it, listen to Dean talking about his teenage years, but his nether regions were in disagreement. He pushed Dean forward.

“What's gotten into you?”

“Well, let me see...”, he started kissing Dean's neck, “I find you magnificent, we are both aroused, and I'm getting impatient.” He took advantage of Dean's shirt being long gone to kiss his nipple area.

Dean growled:

“Didn't think you were the demanding type. You're always very serious.”

“Have I mentioned I'm a CEO? I can be bossy at times.”

It was difficult to stay focused with all the laughs they got out of each other but he wouldn't have it another way. Being goofy and playful was a new, wonderful experience that only Dean could give him.

Plus, it distracted Dean long enough for Cas to completely strip him off.

This date was going perfectly after all.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the promised smut. Instead of changing the rating for this whole fic, I'm giving the warning now. It's tame but still smut, so you can stop reading if you don't want it (or skip to the last three chapters to know how the date ends). For those who don't mind, enjoy. I'll write more time stamps but as separate fics in the Verse. Keep commenting guys, it keeps me writing!  
> Thanks again for my wonderful beta whyamidoingthisitswrongbutiloveit!

Dean was magnificent. As Castiel ran his hand on his boyfriend's freckled skin, he was filled with wonder. Given his money and place in society, Cas had been quite sought after, and by very attractive people at that, but none had looked that damningly gorgeous. The slightest move of his hips made Cas _want_ with his whole being. And here was Dean, naked and spread on the bed, ready for whatever Castiel wanted to do. He must have taken the wrong turn when going to the coffee-place and instead, stepped right into Heaven.

  
  


Dean wasn't passive either, something else he didn't share with Cas' past sexual partners. He kept trying to sit up and kiss him, which Castiel allowed, before pushing him gently back and continuing his exploration, among which : how to make Dean shiver, how to make him moan and how to make him giggle uncontrollably. The latter proved a great distraction for a minute, until seeing Dean laugh became too arousing. He decided to go down to business.

  
  


Once again, he took his time, trying to attune to Dean's needs, avid for every reaction he could coax from Dean's mouth, letting his hands map out what he was lusting after. Strangely, the bolder his touch got, the more vulnerable Dean's eyes became. He was shaking and for a very worrying moment, Castiel wondered if Dean was a virgin. He brushed the concern off, but still spoke up:

“Am I doing it right? You don't look comfortable.”

Dean gulped and breathed with difficulty, but shook his head:

“It's okay, go on...”

Castiel did, treading more carefully. He started stroking slowly and Dean let out a sob.

“Dean, I beg you, tell me what's going on?”

“Fuck, Cas! Don't stop! I swear, it's good.”

“Why do you look like you're crying then?”

  
  


Dean closed his eyes and mumbled something like:

“Too much... feelings... never like that before...”

He opened his eyes again and gazed at Cas with such an intensity, that he understood. His own chest constricted he stopped his ministrations.

He lied down next to Dean and whispered:

“You can touch me too, if you want. I'd like that very much.”

Dean did, and proved to Castiel that he was certainly trained in the sexual area. They rolled on the bed, focused and breathless, any playfulness left behind, because this was _serious_. Castiel knew that, after that night, he would forever be changed.

  
  


Dean came right after him, Castiel being back enough from his high to witness Dean's even more vulnerable face. He loved it. He wanted to see it every single night. And in order to do so, he would have to go into serious negotiations.

Thankfully, he was excellent at negotiating. But he would wait a little. Right now, cuddling under the comforter while staring stupidly at each other was a better option.

  
  


He didn't choose to stay over, it just happened. When he woke up, sunlight was pouring in, displaying Dean's form in all it's muscled glory. Castiel took the sight in, replaying the night for his groggy mind, which reminded him he needed to do some convincing.

“Dean...”

“Mmmm...”

“Dean, it's nearly noon.”

“What?”

Dean sat on the bed, dislodging the sheets, which made Cas' mouth water. He watched him rummage around to find his cell, then open big, anxious eyes:

“I'm supposed to be at the shop in half an hour.”

They ran around, until both were clothed and looked vaguely presentable - Castiel's tie was askew, so Dean fixed it quickly, then stole a kiss. Castiel seized the moment to ask:

“When can I see you again?”

“Anytime you want sweetheart. I'm all yours.”

Cas smiled but insisted:

“I was thinking tonight...?”

Dean frowned, catching his keys and pushing Castiel out of the door, to let him lock it.

“So soon? Don't you have some rich guy's things to do this weekend? Hobnob your way through cocktails and operas and whatnot?”

Castiel laughed out loud:

“If I did, I would invite you as my date. As it happens, I have no other plans than spending time in your wonderful company. Do you have pressing matters to attend to? Or maybe family members to reconnect with?”

  
  


They were rushing to the elevator, now, hands clasped together and Castiel never wanted to let go.

“Nope, but my shift ends at 9. So, if you're still willing to come after that?”

“Or, we could meet at my place. I don't have a TV set but I would love to take time to talk and get to know each other.”

  
  


Dean chuckled and gave him a peck on the lips:

“You're such a dork, Cas.”

But he was smiling as he said so. Castiel ruled at negotiating.

 


End file.
